


It's good in the dark (I Can Change)

by groff



Category: Sex Education (TV)
Genre: Adam Listens to Audio Books Because I Wanted Him to, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Male Character, Character Study, Coming Out, Emotional Baggage, Feelings, Fluff and Angst, Headmaster Groff Sucks, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:41:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22593454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/groff/pseuds/groff
Summary: Sometimes things have to change, even if it's a struggle.(A kind of character study following Adam Groff, featuring all the times he kissed Eric and all the things he learned along the way.)
Relationships: Eric Effiong/Adam Groff, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 176





	1. Chapter 1

Adam hadn’t meant to do it. It had been a thought at the back of his head for a while now, an instant of consideration before he pressed on. When he had hip checked Eric into a locker, then stood close while Eric had rifled through his bag to surrender his lunch, it had flitted through his mind: just lean closer, a breath or two closer, and they could be kissing. When he met eyes across the lunch room, he saw himself marching across the room and taking Eric’s arm, pulling him into a kiss. When he had seen Eric at the dance, brilliant like a star in glittery makeup and outrageous clothes that made him look so stunning, he was tempted to put his hands on Eric’s shoulders and real him in. Kiss him until the lipstick he wore rubbed between them. 

He let each of these instances go. Dropped the thoughts as quickly as they had come. It wasn’t a part of him he wanted to examine. It was easier to be mean than it was to be soft. 

But here now, hovering over Eric in a dusty, ancient music room, looking down at his huge eyes, gravity and the culmination of thoughts pressed him downwards. It carried him part of the way, but Eric leaning up brought their mouths together. A jolt of lightning thrilled through his stomach and into his abdomen, making him hard almost instantly as they kissed. 

It was easy, kissing Eric. Easier than he’d thought it would be. Easy as breathing. Touching his face was an impulse, thumbing over his cheekbone and feeling the smooth, hot skin under his fingers. It was like being kissed for the first time, his whole body lighting up like there was fire searing through his veins instead of blood. 

Kissing downwards, rucking Eric’s shirt up, tasting the damp flesh under Eric’s shorts, listening to his gasps and moans, feeling his body tighten and shift as Adam worked his tongue and lips over unfamiliar territory… That was new. He had always cut his fantasies off at kissing, never gone any further. His dick throbbed in his jeans as he pressed down on the wooden floor. Pleasure rolled up his spine. This was new, but it was good. Amazing even. Something he had never let himself think about or experience before. 

And then it was over. The taste of Eric in his mouth, the smell of his sweat, Eric’s short fingernails scraping across his scalp, and his own persistent grinding into the floor brought him to his climax. They lay together panting as Adam tried to rearrange the newness in his brain, the strange sensation of being with another man like this. 

It was that thought that brought him upright and away, seating himself on the floor with his back against a rickety cabinet. Another man. He’d just sucked another man’s dick and then came in his own pants to the aftershocks of sensation. He wasn’t gay, he couldn’t be gay. He’d only ever been attracted to women before, except for maybe a few men offhand in movies. He had also been undeniably drawn to Eric, and he supposed fantasizing about kissing Eric hadn’t been the straightest thoughts he’d ever thunk before. But still, he couldn’t be  _ gay. _

Then Eric was there, sitting close enough that their fingers brushed. Adam could see his luminescent grin from his peripheral vision.

“That,” Eric started, voice laced with laughter and altogether breathless. Adam had done that to him. “What was that?” 

Adam moved then, panic curling in his stomach.

“Adam, we should talk about-”

Adam had to cut him off. He had to  _ leave _ . “If you ever tell anyone about this, I will fucking end you. Do you understand?” He felt sick and scared. He watched the light die in Eric’s eyes, replaced by the fear that was too familiar. He paused long enough to give Eric a chance to answer, then shoved away. 

_ Run away, coward,  _ he told himself. Bitterness clawed at his throat. 

~~~

It didn’t take long for him to regret running. He wandered by the river for hours, skipping stones and watching happy couples walking their dogs in the park. He figured something had shifted in him the night of the dance, seeing Eric blossom from the dull green drab he had worn, sadness in his eyes, back into the confident, laughing Eric he had always known. Eric had stood in front of him, without hesitation, and asked him if he was a bully because his dad was. There was no fear in Eric’s eyes then, only a strength that Adam envied. 

And then he’d yelled at his dad, Eric as his witness, voice harsh and hands strong as he had said,  _ “I hate you,”  _ straight into his father’s face. 

_ I hate you, and I don’t want to be like you,  _ he had thought at the time.  _ I don’t want to be like you.  _

How could he even do that, now? He was already like his dad, wasn’t he? He used his words to push people around - to push Eric around - and he used his strength and size to intimidate them. He belittled people, put them down, just like his dad did to him. 

He wanted to be different, he realized. He wanted to learn how to be softer with people, how to redirect his anger and bitterness to something else. He didn’t know how, but maybe if he reached out to someone he could start to heal. Maybe if he earned forgiveness from someone else, he could forgive himself. 

The first gesture of reaching out had been so hard, so much harder than he’d expected. Especially when Eric had said,  _ “We’re not friends,”  _ so quickly. Of course they weren’t friends. Adam knew they weren’t friends, but it still hurt. He still made himself sit down next to Eric and pull out his notebook. He could hear the scritch of Eric’s pencil, hyper aware of his presence. 

When Eric offered him the pencil, eyes wide like they had been in the music room, something had given way in his chest. His heart picked up speed like he had been running. It had still been hard, sliding his hand closer. An offering and an apology, an olive branch and a rose. He had tapped Eric’s leg with his knee. He’d hoped for Eric’s attention, but he also hoped that his silent plea for atonement would be accepted. 

Eric had brushed their pinkies together, the motion deliberate. His bright blue nails flashed against his dark skin. Goosebumps rippled up Adam’s arm and a shiver coursed down his back. He felt like he was flying, he felt like he was forgiven. Sitting next to Eric, both of them no longer paying attention to the science teacher, pinkies pressed together and knees close but not touching under the table, felt like everything. 

He had every intention of trying to talk to Eric after the class, but Eric had packed up his things and fled like the building was on fire. Adam felt like that was warranted, considering, so he had packed up his things and gone to his next class. 

He tried to wait for Eric in front of the school, but couldn’t find him. He tried not to let that bring him down. He was hopeful. So he had headed home. He found Madam, which had brightened his mood even further. As soon as he got home he knew something was wrong. There was an unfamiliar car in the drive, and an unfamiliar man in his home. 

He was told he must go, so he did. Eric was outside as he got into the man’s car. Adam had paused, wishing he could take a moment to go to him, imagining he had the courage to kiss him in front of his mum and the man, wanting so badly it hurt. Then he ducked into the car and left, leaving Eric behind. He’d missed his chance. He’d missed so many chances. 

And then military school. 

~~~

He wished coming home had been better, but it was somehow worse. His dad was colder, more distant, and more cruel than he had been before. It was like the opposite of ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’. His mum seemed sadder and more thoughtful, too, quiet and closed off with only a few fond smiles to offer him. He felt like a failure and a disappointment. He felt lost. 

He didn’t try to reconnect with Eric. The feelings he’d for him had grown deeper, and it felt like Eric was all he could think about, most days. He just couldn’t bring himself to track Eric down. After all of the chances he had flubbed up, he didn’t deserve another one. Seeing Eric again would just make letting go harder. 

He’d started his job at the convenience store. He wasn’t good at the customer service part, he knew. Customers expected smiles and a welcoming attitude, and he didn’t have the energy. Yasef seemed satisfied with his performance despite this, though. He kept things clean. He swept and stocked new items. He was careful to count back change, but his till was always a little bit off.

He tried at home too, but he always seemed to fuck that up: washing the car with the window down, pick up and accidentally throwing away an important document his father needed, bathing Madam even though she had just come home from the professional groomer. His father always had something sharp to say to him, belittling his efforts. 

It was somewhere in this time that he found the junkyard. He hated spending time at home, alone in his room. He tried to sleep, but was never able to. Downstairs with his parents, the silence was thick, cloying, and unbearable. He found a release for his anger there, smashing the absolute shit out of anything he could get his hands on. It was easy and fun, destroying items that he couldn’t actually hurt. He spent long nights there alone, shattering things and looking at the stars. He used his meager pay to get a couple of bats and safety goggles. The safety goggles he hadn’t considered until a glass shard had flown up and scratched his cheek. Even though it was a good outlet for the hurt and anger he felt, he figured it probably wasn’t worth losing an eye over. 

And then he’d seen Eric again. He’d come in with Yusef’s nephew. He didn’t know his name yet. Eric was laughing and happy, clearly enjoying himself on what could only be a date. It had drudged up all of the feelings he’d had, as well as a bout of jealousy and anger he couldn’t suppress. 

“When did you get back?” Eric had asked, smile slipping. The surprise was clear on his face when he saw Adam. . 

Adam’s reaction was from habit, a habit he hadn’t had the chance to break. “None of your business, Tromboner,” he snapped, even though inwardly he cringed at himself.

He’d watched, face impassive as the boy Eric was with had spoken. “Do you guys know each other?” he had asked. 

_ Yes,  _ Adam thought to say but didn’t.  _ Yes, but not how I want.  _

“We used to go to school together,” Eric said with an awkward laugh. His eyes met Adam’s, and God, Adam hadn’t forgotten how beautiful he was. His closely kept memories of Eric were nothing like seeing him in person again. Eric’s eyes slipped from his to turn back to the boy. “Um, do you know what?” he glanced at Adam again before taking the other by the hand and leading him a few feet away. 

Adam listened intently, able to hear them faintly over the buzz of the fluorescent lighting. 

“It’s a bit late, and I need to get home. Sorry,” Eric said. Adam couldn’t see his face but wished he could. 

“Okay?” the boy had replied. “You can see it another time.” 

Had they been going upstairs to make out? Have sex, even? 

“Thank you for the beautiful night,” the boy said, leaning in to kiss Eric’s cheek. Eric pulled away quickly, eyes flitting to Adam before going back to the boy. They were definitely on a date, then. 

“Sorry,” Eric said. 

“Okay,” the boy said, a huge grin on his face. Eric slipped from his grasp and hurried out of the store. The boy made scathing eye contact with him as he walked past and headed upstairs. 

Adam slouched to the floor behind the counter, abandoning the task he had been working on before Eric had appeared. He tried to soothe his emotions, which were flickering all over the place. Jealousy because Eric had been on a date. Anger at himself because he had lashed out. Desperate desire to see Eric again. Fury because he had decided, deliberately, to not seek Eric out and had let whatever chance they did have slide through his fingers. An ache started in his stomach and worked its way into his chest. 

_ I have to try,  _ he thought. He’d let so many chances to be better slip past him. He couldn’t let this one go. He had to try even if it meant rejection. Maybe Eric didn’t want to know him, but he wanted to know Eric. He wanted to explore his strengths, weaknesses, and interests. He wanted to know his life, and be there to experience it with him. He wanted to open up about those things with Eric, too, let him see all of the bits and pieces of himself he hadn’t shown anyone else. 

He needed a plan. 

~~~

He watched an absurd amount of “greatest romantic movie moments” on YouTube that night while he sat in the junkyard. All of them felt wrong. It felt unlikely he would find Eric in the perfect rainshower and kiss him, and all of the public declarations of undying affection made him feel uncomfortable and tense inside. He didn’t know if he could proclaim what he felt from the rooftops, and he quickly lost interest in all of the long winded speeches. 

He did get caught on some of the early ‘80s and ‘90s flicks, though. The love interest would stand beneath the window of the person they had feelings for, either blasting a romantic ballads through a boombox or throwing rocks. He didn’t know any songs that felt quite appropriate, but he could throw rocks. That felt like something that was his style. 

He went home to catch a few hours sleep. Even if Eric rejected him, he hoped that he would at least have a chance.

~~~

Standing below Eric’s window with a hand in his pocket, clutching a small fistfull pebbles, was nerve wracking. Would Eric even come to the window? What if it was the wrong window and one of Eric’s family members saw him? How would he explain this to them? He didn’t feel ready to publicize his feelings to anyone other than Eric. What if it got around to his dad? 

He had to be brave, though. He had to do this, or that other boy - Rahim, he had learned - would take the chance Adam wanted. He felt a little guilty that part of his motivation was jealousy, but sue him. He had let his affections sit and hadn’t sought Eric out, but now he knew he might lose him. He needed to know if Eric wanted him, too. 

So he tossed a stone at the window. It clattered loudly against the glass before tumbling down the roof and to the ground. He waited a moment, probably not long enough, to throw another. He threw a total of five stones before he saw the curtains shift. It was dark in the room, so he couldn’t see who it was. He stood there with bated breath, waiting. His heart thumped against his ribs, and he tried to quell the rising anxiety as seconds and then minutes passed by. 

If this was how he was rejected, so be it. It would hurt, it would hurt massively, especially when he saw Eric with Rahim again, but at least he would know that he tried. 

When the door opened and Eric stepped out, clad in a jacket, cheetah print pajamas, and slippers, Adam released the breath he’d been holding. He tried to conjure words, but they kept getting stuck. He was elated that Eric had come outside at all. He hadn’t planned what he would do now. 

Eric chuckled, which broke the spell Adam had been under. He hadn’t realized he was just standing there and just drinking him in. He turned abruptly and took several steps forward. When he didn’t hear Eric immediately following, he paused to turn and look at Eric. He glowed under the light of a streetlamp, radiant. “You coming?” Adam asked before turning around and continuing on. He listened for steps behind him, and was relieved when he heard the distinct shuffle of Eric’s slippers on concrete. 

The walk was short from Eric’s house to the junkyard, which made Adam wonder if he had been looking for opportunities to see Eric even when he told himself that he wasn’t. He’d been within a few blocks of him, knowing he was curled up in bed and sleeping while Adam was awake, thinking of him.

When they got to the junkyard, Adam paused as Eric came closer. Even if Adam had been brave enough to speak during their walk, Eric had pointedly kept his distance. Eric stopped near Adam, apprehension clear on his face. He glanced around, taking in the shattered remains of Adam’s last visit. His shoulders were tense and drawn high, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. 

“What is this place?” Eric asked. 

“Do you want to see something cool?” Adam knew that this was off script from all of the romantic gestures he’d watched on YouTube, but it felt right. It felt like showing Eric the pieces of himself he’d collected here, the hurt and anger he’d let go of as he slammed a bat across beer bottles, vases, and outdated electronics. 

He picked up a plate and grabbed one of the goggles he’d stowed in a stack of tires. Tucking the plate under one arm, he slid them over his head. He selected a bat. He bent his knees, holding the bat in one hand, and then threw the plate in the air with the other. He gathered the jealousy and anxiety he’d been feeling into the center of his chest. Gripping the bat with both hands, he swung and struck the plate dead on. An explosion of ceramic pieces filled the air. He breathed out, imagining the negative shattering with it and joining the jagged edges falling to the ground. 

Behind him, Eric laughed, sending a thrill up Adam’s spine. Adam turned to him, a smile tugging on his lips. He gestured to the bat with his head, an offering. Eric smiled and stepped closer, hands closing around the bat. Adam handed him the spare safety goggles he kept around. Eric slipped them onto his head while Adam retrieved a bowl. He placed it on one of the wooden pikes he’d set up. He gestured at it and stepped away, letting Eric take up a stance in front of it. 

Eric gripped the bat, still chuckling softly, but his grip was awkward and too far apart for a good, solid swing. Adam worried he might hurt his fingers if he proceeded.

“Hold on,” he said without really thinking about it. He stepped behind Eric. He placed one hand over Eric’s, high up on the bat, and the other just above that. The heat from Eric’s skin made his stomach turn into a swarm of butterflies. He carefully slid Eric’s hand down the bat into a more proper position. He paused for a second, savoring the feeling. The wonderment on Eric’s face as they looked at each other left Adam breathless. He slid the hand gripping the top of the bat downwards, holding both hands over Eric’s. He swung the bat in demonstration. He squeezed both of his hands gently over Eric’s and then stepped back. 

Eric let out a puff of air like a sigh, glancing at Adam before he turned back to the bowl. Hesitantly, he hefted the bat and swung. “Boy!” he exclaimed as the ceramic shattered, laughing brightly. 

Adam couldn’t help the grin that split his face as Eric turned to him and lifted his goggles. They laughed together for a moment before Eric said, “Now that was great!” 

Adam nodded. He still couldn’t find the words he wanted, but being here with Eric, surrounded by cool, crisp air and the sound of Eric’s laughter made him feel on top of the world. 

They continued to smash things, taking turns as they worked through the destructible items in their vicinity. By the time they were done, the sky was getting lighter as the sun rose. Bits of glass and ceramic littered the ground around them, glittering in the growing light. 

Sitting side by side with Eric in a pair of beat up lawn chairs felt like magic. They had only had a few short lived conversations during the night. Most were silly banter as they smashed things, but Adam still felt closer to him. Adam rolled a bat through his hands, soaking in the moment. Eric twirled a large piece of broken pottery between his fingers. 

“What was military school like?” he asked, finally breaking the comfortable silence they had fallen into. 

Adam glanced at him. Even though the question was innocent in nature, it felt serious to Adam. His defenses rose. “Well, I got kicked out, didn’t I?” he hesitated for a moment, taking a second to breathe. “But… It was better than being back home.” It was a colossal admission for him, even though it was probably nothing that Eric hadn’t already figured out. 

Eric glanced at him through his eyelashes, then grinned. “Did you have to do those serious drill things?” he asked. 

Adam nodded. 

Eric laughed, shaking his head at the thought. “Show me.” 

Adam hesitated for just a second, studying Eric to make sure he wasn’t being made fun of. Eric had a glimmer of teasing in his eyes, but it was soft. Adam decided it wasn't mean, so he didn’t want to refuse. Just a few hours ago he had butt wiggled his way to bottle smashing glory, and this couldn’t be as embarrassing as that. This was just a piece of himself he could share. 

He stood, lifting the bat in his hands like it was the rifle he’d been issued at the military school. It had been several weeks since he’d left military school, but he went through several of the movements before he fumbled. “I’ve forgotten it,” he said, searching his memory for the next part. “No I haven’t. Here.” 

Eric watched him, fondness in his eyes and smile on his face. His eyelashes looked unbelievably long and soft in the slowly dawning sunlight. “Wow,” he said with a chuckle. “Very impressive.” His laugh wasn’t unkind, though there was definitely teasing in his tone. 

Adam plopped back into his chair, fiddling nervously with the bat. He wasn’t sure what to say next, but wouldn’t this be a good time for some kind of romantic proclamation? They had just spent the whole night together, smashing shit and laughing like fools under the starlight. If Adam wanted to say something like  _ I like you,  _ or  _ I care about you,  _ or  _ I’m sorry I hurt you _ , now would certainly be a good time to do that. 

Eric broke the silence before Adam could organize his thoughts and muster his courage. “I know that you hate it at home, but,” he hesitated for a second before continuing, looking at Adam out of the corner of his eyes, “I’m kind of glad you’re back.” 

An underlying  _ I missed you  _ echoed in his words, and Adam felt like his insides were melting. Eric had missed him, too. He was thrilled by the admission, but embarrassed and restless, too. Awkwardly, he tossed the bat to the side and scooped up his flashlight. “It’s nearly morning. We should get going,” he said as he stood. His skin prickled. 

Eric had missed him. He had missed him. Adam had to acknowledge the statement or he’d risk letting this all go to waste. Another opportunity fucked up. He paced a few steps away, trying to get the words in his head out into the open air. He couldn’t meet Eric’s eyes. His head bobbing nervously as he said, “I’m glad I’m back too.” 

It wasn’t all he wanted to say. He wanted to say so much more, but for now it felt like enough. He glanced at Eric through his eyelashes, pleased by the slow smile that crept up his face. He turned away and started walking, trying to hide the heat building on his cheeks. It was silly to blush over that small smile, over such simple words. 

Eric followed him. Together, walking side by side, they walked to Adam’s house. Adam felt he should have walked Eric back to his own home, but this walk was longer. He wanted to savor the last few minutes of this night. They walked in silence, only the shuffle of their feet between them. 

When they got to Adam’s home, he stuttered to a stop, pivoting so he faced Eric. He glanced back and forth between Eric and the dark house, torn. He didn’t really want it to end. He really wanted to kiss him again. 

“This was, um,” Eric said with a small laugh, “strange.” 

Adam could only watch him, unsure. It was meant to be romantic, or at least something along those lines. He’d checked the box with the whole throwing rocks at the window thing, but he’d gone right off the rails with the whole smashing shit thing. It’d been fun though, hadn’t it? Had Eric had fun? 

“Ok,” Eric said. “Bye.” 

They stood there, Adam still torn with indecision. His eyes flickered from the ground to Eric’s lips, to his eyes, back to his lips, and then to the ground again.  _ Kiss him,  _ his brain urged. His lips tingled at the thought. Would kissing him be too far? Probably not, right? They’d already kissed. It would be fine. His tongue had been stubborn and uncooperative and he hadn’t been able to properly express all the things he felt, but maybe he could display his feelings through a kiss. That was a thing, right? Expressing deep emotion by kissing?

“You’re still here,” Eric said, eying him strangely. Did he want Adam to kiss him, too? Was he thinking about it, about the brief kisses they shared in the band room? His hands fidgeted in the pockets of his jacket, gaze drifting under the intensity of Adam’s stare. 

_ I’m still here,  _ Adam thought. His decision was easy then, his feet carrying him two steps before he could think of it further. Eric met him part of the way, taking a step of his own. They both leaned in, and when their lips met, it was everything to Adam. Electricity cracked down his spine. His hands twitched at his sides, wanting to take Eric’s face in between his palms and feel the soft heat of his cheeks like he’d done before. 

It ended almost as soon as it had started. He heard Madam barking from inside the house, and jerked back, startled. Fear replaced the pleasant buzz inside of him, weighing down his elation and replacing it with the intense urge to run. “I’ve got to go,” Adam said, breathless and fast as he stumbled back. 

“Ok, um,” Eric said. His eyes were inquisitive as he watched Adam glance towards the house then back at him. Hurt flashed across his features. “Cool.” 

Adam watched him go until he was out of sight. Then he turned and ventured back into the house. His dad was outside with Madam, so he made it upstairs to his room without an encounter. He collapsed into bed, fully clothed. He stared up at the ceiling for a long time, going over every second he’d spent with Eric that night. Despite their abrupt departure, he was really happy about how it went. He’d had so much fun spending time with him. It’d been awkward occasionally, the weight of their shared history between them, but they still found ways to laugh and smile together. 

_ I’ll go back tonight,  _ Adam told himself as his eyes closed. He’d do better at sharing his thoughts this time. 

~~~

Eric appeared outside within minutes of the first rock clicking against his window. He was fully dressed this time, in tight jeans and glittery blue and black t-shirt, topped with a very 90s jacket in multiple colors. He grinned brightly as he trotted up. “Hi, Adam,” he said, his voice edged with shyness. 

“Hi,” Adam responded, pleased that his tongue was more functional this time. He glanced around, making sure there was no one else around, then offered his hand to Eric. 

Eric’s grin was blinding as he slid his palm across Adam’s to lace their fingers together. They walked together side by side through the silent streets, straight back to the junkyard. It was fun to swing their arms between them in the dark, illuminated only by the streetlights as they passed underneath them. It would be so easy if he could just have Eric like this, without the pressure from his peers or his parents. He liked it here, warm, and happy, and basking in the softness in Eric’s eyes and glow of his grin.

He found it easier to chat this time, though Eric carried most of the conversation. He didn’t seem to be annoyed about it, so Adam thought it was fine. He gladly answered more questions about the military academy, and what it was like to work in the shop, and whether or not he missed school. His whole body tingled every time he got a laugh from Eric at one of his dryly delivered answers. He tried to ask questions back, but he felt like he was asking bland, stereotypical questions. 

They talked while they smashed some more stuff - Adam had bought a box of various ceramic figures from a thrift store after work specifically for this - and Adam felt laughter flowing from him more easily as the minutes, then hours, slipped past them. The figures all shattered beautifully, and Eric giggled hysterically when Adam struck one at just the right angle and shot its head off its body like a golf ball. 

The box was quickly empty and the night wasn’t quite over yet. Adam knew they still had time, even though he was sure Eric was tired from the long night before, followed almost immediately by school. He, at least, was used to not sleeping much. Eric didn’t seem tired though. His eyes were bright as he collapsed next to Adam in his fold up chair, hockey stick dangling from his fingers. 

“This is such a blast,” Eric sighed. “I’m really glad-”

“Can I kiss you again?” Adam asked, accidentally cutting him off. He backpedaled quickly. “No, wait, sorry. What were you-?”

Eric was out of his chair and standing over Adam. His face was in deep shadow, so Adam couldn’t clearly see his expression. “Yes.” Eric said emphatically. “Yes!” He slid into the chair and onto Adam’s lap, sitting on Adam’s knees while his legs folded underneath him. Finding a position that didn’t topple them over backwards took quite a bit of squirming and laughing from the both of them, but when they finally found what worked, they were both breathless, faces inches from each other. Adam was hard in his jeans, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Eric was too as he watched Eric’s tongue ghost across his bottom lip. He bet it would be painful if he was, since the jeans he had on were extra snug. 

With that thought sending pleasure spinning in his stomach, he tilted his head upwards to capture Eric’s mouth in a bruising kiss. Their other kisses, while still amazing, were nothing like this one. Those had been soft and tentative, with nothing but the slide of slick lips. This kiss involved infinitely more tongue, and one unfortunate clash of teeth before they found a better angle. Adam was pleased, and so turned on, to find that Eric wasn’t shy. His tongue pressed into Adam’s mouth eagerly, tangling with Adam’s and brushing tantalizingly over the roof of his mouth and backs of his teeth. 

Adam found one of his hands tucked into the back pocket of Eric’s jeans and the other gripping the ridge of his hips in a futile attempt to maintain some balance. Eric seemed to especially like the hand in his pocket, letting out a high whine through his nose when Adam gave a tentative squeeze. Eric’s own hands had settled on Adam’s shoulders, thumbs pressed tight into the hollows below his collar bones. 

Adam would have been happy to keep kissing Eric like this all night long, mapping the places and memorizing motions that made Eric squirm or whimper, but Eric seemed determined to undo him bit by bit. He pressed his teeth into Adam’s lower lip. He skated his lips and tongue down the column of Adam’s throat. He nibbled at Adam’s ear, tugging on the lobe as his damp breath warmed Adam’s skin. His hands wandered Adam’s chest, tugging at the neck so he could press clever fingers against his collarbones and upper back. Every groan Adam released seemed to spur him on. In between each new exploration, Eric would pause to kiss Adam deeply. 

Adam eventually managed to get some control over the situation, tugging aside Eric’s jacket and shirt so he could suck a hickey into the thick muscle at the top of Eric’s shoulder. Eric seemed to like that a lot, tilting his head far to the side so he could give Adam access. He ground down into Adam’s lap, seeking friction. When Adam finally pulled back, Eric’s eyes were half lidded and his pupils were blown wide. Adam couldn’t tell the difference between the dark brown and black in the early morning light. 

He came out of his haze enough to realize that it was indeed morning. How much time had they spent kissing? His lips felt slick and swollen. “We should go,” he whispered, his voice was hoarse. 

Eric blinked at him. “Oh,” he murmured. “Is it morning already?” a grin split his face and he sat back on Adam’s knees. One hand had moved down grip Adam’s thigh at some point during their make out session, but he brought it back up, sliding his fingers along Adam’s stomach and across his ribs before settling again on his shoulder. 

Adam grinned back at him, delirious. “Yeah,” he agreed. 

Eric leaned forward to kiss him again, but shifted too much weight onto his knees. The chair, which had been rickety in the first place, groaned under the unbalanced weight. Adam let out a yelp as he felt himself toppling backwards. He landed hard on the ground, and Eric landed sprawled on top of him. 

“Ouch,” Adam gasped, trying to catch his breath. The combination of falling backwards and having Eric land on top of him had knocked the air out of his lungs. 

“Oh jeez,” Eric said, scrambling to get off of him. “Are you ok? Sorry, sorry! That chair is a safety hazard.” His hands hovered over Adam’s chest. “Are you ok?” he repeated. 

Adam let out a wheezing laugh once his lungs were functioning again. “Clumsy,” he teased, disentangling his legs from the bent metal of the now ruined chair. He pulled himself upright, rubbing the sore spot on the back of his head. 

Eric’s worried look disintegrated into a smile, which Adam gladly kissed. 

~~~

It went on like this for three more blissful nights. Eric was ready and waiting for him at the door of his home, sliding outside before Adam could even throw a rock at his window. 

“You’re ruining the romance,” Adam had told him the first night he’d done this, even as he took Eric’s hand in his.

“So that’s what this is?” Eric asked, teasing grin on his face. “Adam Groff’s version of romance?” 

Adam nodded in agreement. “I watched YouTube videos.” 

Eric’s head tilted back as he let out a loud laugh. “Truly romantic,” he snorted. He squeezed Adam’s hand. 

As they grew more comfortable together, the flirting had increased. Eric was good at it, dropping teasing comments and playful jabs that made Adam grin like a fool. It was so easy and comfortable with Eric now, and Adam was happy to just let it be. 

The only part that felt off somehow was the expressions that would cross Eric’s face when Adam would drop his hand when a car drove by, or the distance Adam would create between them when they got back to Adam’s home later than usual. Adam couldn’t really tell what the face he made meant, but he had the gut feeling that he’d hurt him somehow. He was afraid to ask, in case he ruined what they were building. 

On the fifth night, Friday, Eric turned to Adam while they were walking towards the junkyard. Their arms swung between them. “I won’t be around tomorrow night,” he said. “I’m going with Otis and his dad to camp.” 

Adam side eyed him. “Camp? Doesn’t really seem like your thing.” 

Eric waved his free hand flippantly. “It’ll be fine. I’m sure it’ll be in an RV at a campground or something.” 

When they got to the junkyard, Adam let go of Eric’s hand to start setting up some tall glass vases. He’d had the idea earlier that morning that he and Eric could try hitting rocks with the bat to break them. He thought it would be fun. He slid the goggles onto his head and rested the plastic lenses on his forehead before he took up the bat. He glanced at Eric, who was watching him intently. 

Adam offered him the bat handle first. Eric didn’t take it, but he did step closer. He slid his fingers along the length of the bat, maintaining eye contact with Adam as he did so. Adam felt heat pool in his belly instantly. 

“Maybe we could smash stuff later,” Eric suggested, stepping closer. His eyes dipped to glance at Adam’s lips, making his intentions clear. He tugged at the bat, pulling it out of Adam’s hands before dropping it to the ground. It landed with a thump. He slid the goggles off Adam’s head, letting them drop as well. He put his hands flat on Adams shoulders and pressed, pushing against them until Adam took a step back. He took five steps, eyes glued to Eric’s face, before his back suddenly met the cold metal of a railcar. 

“Eric,” he said, but Eric shushed him. He trailed his fingers down Adam’s arms, pressing against his ribs and his waist, before settling them firmly on his hips. 

Eric stepped closer, tilting his head up and leaning into Adam’s space. One hand fiddled with the hem of Adam’s jacket before sliding underneath it. His palm felt hot on the bare skin of Adam’s side. The other hand slipped underneath too, but his thumb hitched itself to one of Adam’s belt loops. 

When Eric finally leaned forward to kiss him, Adam met him in the middle eagerly. He was already breathless from the display, heart pounding and body tingling all over. The kiss was blindingly intense, wet lips sliding over each other. Adam left his hands hanging limply at his sides, his entire focus on the hot breath ghosting across his face, the closeness of Eric’s closed eyes, the bump of their noses as Eric turned his head to get a different angle. 

When they finally separated to breathe, they were both panting. Eric’s eyes were closed, but Adam kept his half open so he could watch Eric’s face. Eric seemed pleased with himself, a smile curling at the corners of his lips. Adam lifted a hand from his side to trace the curve of Eric’s cheekbone and the line of his jaw with a finger. Eric’s eyes opened. His lashes were long. They fluttered against his skin. Moonlight reflected in his dark eyes .

“You’re beautiful,” Adam murmured, surprising himself. He didn’t wait for Eric’s reaction, embarrassed that he’d said something so blatantly. Instead, he curled the hand on Eric’s face around the back of his head and drew him in for another kiss. He’d meant to match Eric’s intensity, but he found himself slowing, savoring the taste of Eric’s lips. There was a tinge of mint and vanilla. It was tantalizing and sweet, addicting. Adam wished he could kiss Eric like this forever. 

~~~


	2. Chapter 2

Adam ended up going to sleep Saturday night instead of heading to the junkyard. It would have felt strange being there without Eric, even though they had only spent five nights together. It would feel lonely, sitting in the dark in the new lawnchair he had bought. He was surprised that he’d slept when he woke up the next morning, since his late night adventures had started due to a bout of relentless insomnia. 

He felt refreshed, though. He went to work excited to see Eric that night. He worked with Ola that day, which was always entertaining. Ola never seemed to mind when he was in a grouchy mood, and let any surly comment he made roll off her shoulders. She was also happy to work the cash register while Adam puttered around stocking and cleaning up, which worked for him since customer service was still not his strong suit. 

“Have you ever had a weird dream?” she asked when there was a slow moment. Adam was stocking candy bars, thinking about getting Eric one as a present when he picked him up tonight. Maybe flowers? “Oi,” she said when he didn’t respond right away. “I’m talking to you.” 

Woops. “I don’t dream,” he replied, thinking of the restless nights he’d spent wandering the town before he went to throw rocks at Eric’s window. The few hours he’d managed to catch before his shifts at work had been dreamless, and last night he’d been under so deep he wouldn’t remember even if he had dreamed. 

“Everyone dreams.” 

“No, I’ve smoked too much weed,” he said. That was true. Before the military academy, he’d spent hours with Kyle. Kyle was shit at school, just like Adam was, but he could make a bong out of anything and he grew his own supply. He hadn’t smoked much since he got back. 

“What about a sex dream?” 

He glanced at her, annoyed. He definitely didn’t want to talk about any sex dreams he’d had. He hadn’t dreampt since his return, but he’d had his fair share of those before. He didn’t want to admit to her that they’d featured both men and women. 

“About another guy?”

Too close to home. “Look, I said I don’t dream, okay?” he replied gruffly, setting the candy bar down harder than he’d meant to. He took a breath, trying to reign back his temper. He set his arm down on the shelf, keeping his eyes glued to the ceiling so she couldn’t get a glimpse of his real thoughts. 

As usual, she seemed unfazed. “I had a sex dream last night about a girl,” she admitted. “Even though we didn’t actually have sex. We just kissed. I just can’t stop thinking about it.” 

“Dreams aren’t real. That’s why they’re called dreams.” He’d told himself that over and over again when he was younger. He gave her an annoyed look, trying to convey exactly how much he wanted this conversation to be over. 

She looked unconvinced. “Do you think it means something if I’m having sex dreams about a girl?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know.” He didn’t want to know. “Go and ask Google, like everyone else.” 

He turned to dispose of the empty box in his hands, hoping that would be the end of the conversation. He didn’t really want to examine what it  _ meant  _ to have sex dreams about women, in Ola’s case, or men, in his. He liked Eric, sure, but that didn’t make him different. It didn’t have to mean anything. 

He knew he was lying to himself. Liking Eric was everything, but he still wasn’t ready to look closely at what that specifically meant for him. 

He was disappointed when he went back to the front counter and found Ola on her phone. As he rounded it to go behind, he peered at the glowing screen and cringed. In bright purple at the top, it read “What Is Your Sexuality”? The conversation was clearly not over. 

“Who do you notice more when you walk down the street?” Ola read outloud. “Men or women?” 

_ Both,  _ Adam thought to himself, then frowned. Nope. Women. Just women. Definitely no one other than women, and Eric. He noticed ‘man’ singular, just Eric. 

Ola looked up thoughtfully. “Both,” she said, echoing Adam’s original thought. She looked over at him, but he quickly looked away. “I thought everyone did.” 

“Well, I only notice girls,” he replied. He hated how unconvincing he sounded. “They’re everywhere.” 

Ola wasn’t listening to him, peering down at her phone again as she answered more questions. 

He tried to subdue his own curiosity, but eventually surrendered to it instead of dwelling on the uncomfortable feelings bubbling in his chest. He stood and wandered closer, craning his neck to peer at the phone in her hands. 

“Hm,” she said finally. “I’m pansexual, apparently.” 

That one was new. “What, like,” he started, nose wrinkling in confusion, “fucking pots and pans?” 

Her expression conveyed both pity and annoyance. 

Trying to backtrack, he said, “I knew a guy who,” he met her eyes, then glanced away, nervous under her gaze, “used to like to stick his dick in the suction pipe of a vacuum cleaner. It’s normal.”

Her lips hitched in a smile and she shook her head minutely before looking back down at her phone. “Pansexual means that you’re attracted to the person,” she read, “not the sex or gender. It’s about the connection you have with the human being, not with their genitalia.” She sounded pleased with this conclusion. 

Adam wandered back to where he had been sitting originally, the uncomfortable feeling overtaking him again as his curiosity waned. 

“Kind of makes sense, actually,” she mused, leaning on the counter with both elbows. 

“It doesn’t make sense to me,” Adam replied immediately, even as he guiltily thought of Eric. 

~~~

Adam walked to Eric’s house later that night with a bounce in his step. He’d managed to sort out some of his complicated feelings after his talk with Ola. He’d gone home to catch a nap and wank off a bit, and ended up masturbating to both Tommy Tester and Ava Speed on his  _ Ultimate Deadlock  _ poster. At first, he’d blamed it on Ola. She’d gotten into his head with her fucking pans talk. Then he realized he was just playing games with himself, lying and trying to avoid the truth. 

Once he’d pulled a shirt on and taken Madam out, he walked back up to his room and Googled  _ attracted to men and women?  _ on his laptop, incognito mode. He knew that no one would find out that he’d look something like this up, but he still felt a little better using it instead of the normal browser. 

He ended up finding the same quiz he had seen Ola taking. He made himself look at each question and answer them as honestly as possible, even though he was anxious about the results. He’d only ever thought of himself as straight, or at least mostly straight. He had just never bothered to examine or put a label on the other bits. When he answered the last question, he hovered his mouse over the  _ View Results!  _ button. He wasn’t sure if he actually wanted to know. He glanced up at the red X at the top of his screen and considered rebottling all of this up and continuing to ignore it. Finally, after a long moment of hesitation, he clicked the results button. 

_ You Might Be Bisexual!  _ the results screen told him in blue, pink, and purple gradient letters. Below, it read:  _ sexually attracted to not exclusively to people of one particular gender; attracted to both men and women.  _ There was a disclaimer beneath that that read:  _ Sexuality labels are extremely personal and may differ from person to person. Bisexuality and pansexuality are similar in meaning, it comes down to personal preference on which label a person might feel like they align with. Though your results say you are bisexual, researching and exploring the community of similar labels might help you on your journey to find the sexual identity that you feel most compatible with.  _

So he did. He Googled biseuxality and read what he could. It was difficult for him to focus on the more scientific analises, but some of the personal stories that he found resonated with some of the things he’d dealt with closely. He also read some of the stories about what people termed biphobia, and how the sexuality was often neglected or ignored because some people believed that bisexualty didn’t exist and that he and others like him would find their ‘true’ sexuality when they fell in love.

_ I’m bisexual,  _ he thought, trying it on for size. He was afraid of what that meant for him, of what that meant for his future. He didn’t know how to deal with it, and he didn’t know how he was supposed to find comfort in the fact that he knew where his sexuality fell now. He had ignored his attraction to other men for so long, outside of pursuing Eric, that the label felt clunky and awkward when he applied it to himself. 

“Adam, can you come downstairs please?” his mom called from the first floor, breaking his concentration. 

_ Bisexual,  _ he thought as he walked downstairs.  _ Bisexual.  _

His mom was alone in the kitchen, eating an unfamiliar fruit as she leaned against the counter. 

She gave him a tiny smile, almost timid, but there was something in her eyes that was strange. “I’m divorcing your father,” she said. He was surprised by the confidence in her voice, the surety in her statement. He could only stare at her. She didn’t wither or backpedal under his gaze, only gestured towards another slice of fruit that was on the counter. “Would you like some mango?” 

He glanced at the fruit, then at her. She took another bite, watching for his reaction. He let out a breath, tapped his fist on the counter, and then picked up the slice she had prepared for him. 

~~~

When he got to Eric’s house, he paused outside for a minute to see if Eric would come bounding out like he had before. The light was on in his window, which was unusual. Usually it was already off. When Eric didn’t appear after a few moments, he shrugged and gathered a few small stones from the road. He tossed the first one. It clicked satisfyingly against the glass before tumbling to the ground. 

He waited, watching for movement beyond the window. Confused, he threw a second rock. It tapped against the glass as the light flicked off. He smiled and turned his attention to the door, waiting for Eric to appear. Seconds passed by, then minutes. His heart began to sink as he realized that Eric wasn’t coming. 

He said he’d be home tonight. The light had been deliberately turned off. If it had been one of Eric’s family members in the room, surely they would have come to the window to see who had thrown the rock. That meant that Eric had intentionally ignored him. 

He was being rejected. 

He stared at the window for a long time, clinging to the hope that Eric would eventually appear. He ignored the swirl of anger and sadness in his chest, even as a lump grew in his throat. Finally, he figured the message was clear enough. Eric didn’t want to see him anymore. 

What had happened? Had he done something wrong? Was it something he’d said? He tried to review all of the things they’d talked about while they were together, but he quickly realized that most of it had been insignificant. They’d flirted and laughed and joked, kissed and broke things, but there wasn’t substance to most of their conversations. 

Adam finally made himself turn towards home. His legs felt heavy and his eyes stung. They’d had a few moments together where Adam felt like he’d really been honest with Eric, but had it not been enough? He’d thought being silly together was a good thing, a comfortable thing. He’d always enjoyed those moments when he’d been dating Aimee or when he hung out with people before he’d exposed his dick to the whole school. 

When he got home and trudged up the stairs, he fell face first into his bed without bothering to change out of his clothes. He could still feel tears stinging at his eyes, and he desperately wanted to choke them back, but several slid into his pillow when he blinked. He was  _ bisexual,  _ his parents were getting a divorce, and now Eric had officially decided he wasn’t worth the time. It felt like too much. It felt like heartbreak on so many different levels.

~~~

He was off for the next several days, which he hated. Normally it was fine. He’d walk Madam, sleep, jerk off, smash stuff, but he felt restless. Nothing he did distracted him. His dad was absent from their house, which made everything feel even more off kilter and strange. His mom went about the house like everything was completely normal, a pep in her step and a song on her lips as she tidied up. 

He was back to only sleeping a few hours a night. When he couldn’t put his mind to rest, he wandered. He avoided the junkyard like it was contaminated with the plague. His chest ached constantly, sharply when he thought of or was reminded of Eric. His stomach turned unpleasantly whenever he thought of being bisexual. He tried to avoid everything, tried to smother it. He just wanted to be numb. 

His mom seemed to notice that he was struggling, or at least not sleeping. One evening, she offered him an old iPod and some headphones. “Sometimes when I can’t sleep, I listen to books,” she told him. “Some of them you might not be interested in, but I have a few fantasy novels on there.” 

Adam hadn’t read, or listened to, in this case, a non-school book in years, but he took the iPod from her anyways. She smiled when he did and stood up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. This was new, and made his stomach lurch uncomfortably. His mom and dad had never been particularly affectionate with him once he got into his teenage years. 

He plugged in the headphones when he left the house that night to wander. As he walked, he unlocked it and opened the audio book app that was downloaded. He scrolled through the books available and was surprised to see there were over a hundred different options. His mom must have been understating how often she listened to them. He read some of the descriptions, and was mortified to find that at least half of them were sordid romance novels. He considered dumping the thing in the trash immediately, horrified by the thought of his  _ mom  _ listening to these in her spare time, but decided against it when his eyes snagged on a familiar title.  _ The Hobbit,  _ by J R R Tolkein. 

That was good enough for him, he decided, sliding the headphones into his ears before he started the book. He found it relaxing, listening to the monotone voice as they read the story to him. He wandered slower than usual, meandering through the streets with his hands tucked into his pockets, one circled around the battered iPod. 

He found it easier to sit with his thoughts as the words of the story washed over him. All of the things he felt seemed simpler. He paused under a street lamp just to listen and let his eyes fall closed. He was still heartbroken over Eric, still terrified of being  _ bisexual, _ and still unsure about his parents getting a divorce, but as he listened to the brave tale of Bilbo Baggins, he felt like he could probably handle it. 

~~~

When he finally went back to work on Thursday, he was relieved. He’d handed the iPod over to his mom that morning and thanked her, which had made her eyes go wide as dinner plates in her tiny face. They’d talked, just a little bit, about  _ The Hobbit, The Fellowship of the Ring,  _ and  _ The Two Towers,  _ all of which he’d finished in the three days he had been borrowing the iPod. The stories hadn’t helped him sleep, but it had helped him settle on a couple of things. 

For one, he knew without a shadow of a doubt he was bisexual now. There wasn’t anything specific in the stories that had brought him to this conclusion, but somewhere during  _ The Fellowship of the Ring _ , probably while he was zoning out during the council of Elrond chapter, he’d decided. It still scared the shit out of him, and he didn’t know what to do with the information, but at least he knew. 

Second, he needed to talk to Eric. The words from Otis’ mom rang through his head, that he  _ deserved closure.  _ Maybe it was just a last ditch effort, or maybe he just wanted to see Eric again, but whatever it was he just really wanted to talk to him. 

The universe must have been on his side on that front. While he was working - and goofing off with a pricing gun - a couple of girls came into the store. Hurriedly, he pulled the stickers off of his face. He vaguely recognized them. Were they from Moordale? 

“Who’s gonna be there?” one said loudly as they both went straight to the alcohol. 

“Well, I hope Jamie and Joel,” the other replied. Their voices went quiet for a second as they made their selection, then they came back towards the counter. 

“Who even told you about Otis’ party?” the first said. 

“Tromboner,” the other responded with a laugh as they set the box of bottles in front of Adam. 

Eric had told them Otis was having a party? He picked up the scanner to ring them up. Otis was throwing a party? That was laughable. 

“Adam?” the second one asked, leaning on the counter towards him. Yeah, definitely from Moordale. “Didn’t you get expelled?”

Annoyed, Adam didn’t answer. Did it technically count as expulsion when your dad, who is also the headmaster, forced you to change schools and then refused to let you come back? 

The second one eyed him playfully as she leaned towards her friend. “I heard he has a huge dick.” 

_ You’re not very good at whispering,  _ Adam wanted to say, but decided to ignore them in favor of finishing up the transaction. 

The first handed him some money with a wink and a smile. “Thanks, Adam!” they left laughing. 

Even though he was irritated, and maybe a little bit hurt, they still gave him useful information. He knew where Otis lived. He didn’t remember the address, but he knew how to get there. He could go see Eric and try to convince him to at least talk. To at least tell him what he’d done wrong. 

~~~

His mum wasn’t home when he got back from work. His shift ended later than he had hoped it would, but Yusef had apologized for running behind on his errand and told Adam he could come in late tomorrow if he wanted. The house was eerily quiet without his mom humming a tune in the kitchen while she cooked dinner. 

He hopped in the shower and then changed. Should he wear something nice? No, definitely not. It was a party, not a date. He put on his standard clothes, jeans, tank top, and zip up hoodie. He did end up spraying some cologne on his neck, but immediately regretted it. It was so strong he could smell it even after he tried to rub it off with a towel. It smelled deep and musky, and not in a way he found pleasant. Ugh. 

He considered getting in the shower again to scrub the scent off, but when he glanced at the clock he knew he shouldn’t. It was getting late already, and it was a school night. Even though those girls had been buying beer, he didn’t think the party would go on for  _ that _ long, considering the host was Otis. Hopefully the long walk would help him sweat it off. 

He stole the iPod off the charger in the kitchen - where exactly had his mom gone that she hadn’t taken it with her? - plugged in the headphones, and headed out. Should he get Eric some flowers? Chocolate? He didn’t even really know what he was apologizing for, but his father had done that a long time ago when he and his mom fought. 

When he got to the house, it was dark and very late. The party was clearly in full swing, and much much bigger than Adam had expected. Groups of people were littered all the way up the steps and on the road, smoking, laughing, and drinking. Adam paused  _ The Return of the King _ and rolled the headphones around the iPod before stuffing it in his pocket. He got a weird look from one of the people standing at the fringes, so he quickly flipped his hood up and ducked his head. No point in drawing attention to himself. 

He weaved through the people on the steps, the crowd growing thicker as he went. As he got closer, he could hear music thumping from inside. Beer bottles littered the porch as he walked in. He paused in the entrance to get his bearings. It was dark and smoky inside, and smelled of cheap vodka, cigarette smoke, and sweat. Adam wondered if this was what Otis had originally intended, since it seemed completely not his style. 

He didn’t have to go much further before he caught sight of Eric. His heart sank in his chest immediately and the sharp pain came back full force. Eric was leaning into Rahim’s space with a huge grin to kiss him. 

Of course. Adam had fucked up somehow, chased Eric away, and Eric had gladly turned to someone who liked him, who was probably good for him, who had probably never been mean to him. 

Adam should have turned around and walked away as soon as he saw, but he felt frozen as he watched. Rahim reached up and touched Eric’s cheek, following the same path that Adam liked to touch. Eric’s eyes fluttered open as the kiss pulled back. He caught sight of Adam over Rahim’s shoulder. 

_ Fuck,  _ Adam thought, unprepared for the way Eric’s face fell. 

Adam had to leave. He forced his legs into motion, turning to exit the house as calmly as he could. He felt anything but calm. For a split second, he was angry, but not at Eric. He was angry at himself, furious that he’d managed to fuck up something that had been so good. He knew he deserved it. Once the anger faded, he felt sad and alone. He wasn’t unused to feeling lonely, but this felt devastating. He was surrounded by people, swamped by them, but walking among them, walking away from Eric, made him feel so empty inside. 

He was already up the stairs when he heard Eric’s voice behind him. “Wait!” he said. 

Adam should keep going, try to protect the shattered pieces of his heart, but his body had decided for him. He slowed and stopped at the top of the steps, mouth blurting out the first thought that came to him at the sound of Eric’s voice. “You stopped coming to the window.” 

He turned to face Eric, trying to bottle up what he was feeling. He couldn’t break, not here and not now, not when he had come here seeking closure. Seeing Eric kiss Rahim should have been closure enough, it had sure hurt enough, but Eric hadn’t let him get away. 

“Yeah, I did,” Eric replied immediately. He sounded defensive, his face pained in the moonlight. 

“What did I do wrong?” It was the question he’d wanted answered when he left the house, but now he only wanted to run. Did he really need to know? Was it worth more heartbreak? Would Eric tell him he wasn’t good enough, wasn’t kind enough, wasn’t  _ enough _ ? He wasn’t any of those things, good, kind, even enough, but he had been trying. He had tried to be better, tried-

Eric’s face was incredulous, his voice stern when he said, “You bullied me for  _ years, _ Adam.” 

He had. Adam knew he had, he admitted to it. He was so sorry. He’d wanted to change, to be different. 

“You made me feel unsafe for years,” Eric continued. “You were one of the main reasons I was unkind to myself.”

Each word was a knife in Adam’s gut. He wasn’t surprised, not really, but it still hurt. They’d spent five nights together, laughter between them instead of pain. He’d thought it was a chance to start over. 

“And I’m supposed to believe you’ve suddenly changed?” Eric scoffed. “You’re full of shame, man, and I can’t be in that place anymore. I had to work really hard to love myself, and I won’t go back to hiding things about me again.”

“I’m scared,” Adam really needed to get a handle on his tongue. 

Eric’s face softened into surprise as he watched Adam closely.  _ I’ve changed,  _ Adam wanted to say,  _ I want to change.  _

“And I think I’m bisexual,” he said instead. He threw out ‘I think’ as a safety net, even though he knew. Maybe to some people, it wasn’t a huge admission, but to Adam it was everything. He was exposing the deepest secret he had to Eric in this moment, trying to prove that he wanted to keep improving. He wanted Eric to realize that. Of course he ruined it in the next second. 

There was understanding on Eric’s face, as well as sadness. He leaned forward, reaching for the fist Adam had balled at his side. “Are you all right?” 

It would have been a comfort to take Eric’s hand, to let him hold it, but as soon as his skin touched Adam’s he reacted by knocking it away. The laughter of the people around him was loud in his ears, and it felt like every eye was turned towards him. His breath rattled in his chest. His lips tightened. He glanced backwards to make sure no one was actually watching him. They were all completely wrapped up in their own conversations, laughing and talking, but when Adam turned back he still had the distinct crawling sensation of being  _ watched  _ on his flesh. 

The understanding in Eric’s face had faded, replaced by pity and anger. “You can’t even hold my hand,” he said. 

_ There are too many people,  _ Adam thought, but Eric was right. He was  _ right  _ and it hurt. 

“Rahim can hold my hand.” Eric’s eyes were intense, the intent of his words clear. 

“I feel like everyone hates me,” Adam whispered. It wasn’t even something he had been actively thinking about. It was a thought he had buried so deep, he hadn’t even realized it was bothering him, but it felt true on his lips. His dad hated him, the people from Moordale hated him, the boys from the military academy didn’t give a shit about him, and now, the only person he’d thought might actually like him enough to keep him around, hated him. Tears stung his eyes. 

“Well, it’s kind of hard to like someone who doesn’t like themselves,” Eric’s eyes were sad, misted over in tears that mirrored Adam’s, but that was all he had left to say it seemed. He turned, heading down the stairs and back towards Otis’ house. 

And that was that, wasn’t it? The closure that Adam had wanted so badly. It hurt. His chest was tight. Breathing was becoming harder and harder with each breath he tried to take. His arms felt tingly and strange, and he felt nauseous. His chest hurt. Was he having a heart attack? 

He was moving before he could register he was doing it, his body taking him to safety even as his mind scrambled for purchase. There was a tree a little way up the road that he collapsed under. He put his head on his knees. 

~~~

It was maybe an hour later that the shoe nearly took his head off. He’d finally calmed down enough that he’d been able to put the headphones back in and listen to more of  _ The Return of the King _ , but the words slid over him like water. He was laying flat on his back, cheek turned into the soft grass as he plucked at the strands under his fingers. He still felt horrible, sad, alone, unloved, hated, angry, afraid, but at least he could breathe again. 

The shoe landed way too close to his head, and he sat up abruptly, yanking the buds from his ears. Ola stood there, a look on her face that he could relate to. “Jesus,” he said, picking up her shoe. 

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, her voice intense and furious.

“I didn’t want to go home,” he responded, matching her tone reflexively. “Why’d you throw your shoe at me?” 

She paused, her face losing the angry edge to it. “I’m angry,” she admitted. 

Yeah, Adam understood that. He was angry, too. “Do you wanna go smash some shit?” 

She sniffled, then nodded slightly. “Yeah, all right.” 

~~~

Adam had thought it would hurt worse to be back at the junkyard, knowing what he did now, but when it didn’t he figured he was maxed out on pain. The vases he’d set up the last night he’d spent with Eric were still there, left to grow dusty. He put on his safety goggles, handed Ola the extra pare, and hefted a golf club. 

Together, they shattered everything they could find. They went deeper into the junkyard than Adam had before, collecting anything they thought would smash in a satisfying way. Adam didn’t necessarily feel better as he went along, but at least he was doing something instead of stewing in his own thoughts and feelings. 

He tried to use his old technique of gathering up the bad feelings in the center of his chest and then releasing them when he swung the club. It wasn’t working like it had. The bad feelings just kept being there, simmering beneath the surface. He realized as he watched Ola destroy an old house phone that he wasn’t actually dealing with those feelings when he did this, just bottling them up inside. The feelings didn’t actually go  _ anywhere _ for him because he wasn’t dealing with the causes of them. 

What were the causes of his feelings? He could start with his dad, for one. His dad had treated him like dirt. Every failure was detrimental and unforgivable, unfixable, to his dad. Every success wasn’t really success, just Adam getting lucky somehow, or cheating the system. 

Then there was his mom. She hadn’t ever defended him, not really, not in ways that helped. She’d allowed small cruelties at first, and then it was too late to stop the larger ones. She hadn’t protected him, hadn’t had the nerve to defy her husband and comfort him. She’d stopped giving him hugs and kisses when his father had scoffed and told her that Adam was far too old for such childish gestures, unwilling to question or examine the logic and fight it. 

Angry now, Adam swung his club at a glittering crystal vase with all his might. The shards arched through the air, sparkling in the moonlight. Sure, he could blame his mom for her passivity, or his dad for his cruelty, but that’s only where it started. They’d taught him these things, and he’d learned the lessons and returned them to others twofold. He’d done the same things that had harmed him to others, without guilt. Without guilt until now. 

The lessons had started with his parents, but the choices were his. It ended with  _ him  _ and his decisions and his actions. He was the one who refused to acknowledge pieces of himself that he felt ashamed of, he was the one who lashed out at people,  _ he  _ was the one who got himself to this dark place. 

He yelled as he smashed the next dish. Ola yelled with him. 

If he was the one who had made the choices to be this way, he could also be the one who could make the choices to  _ not  _ be this way. He could work through the shame, the guilt, the anger, and he could make choices that bettered himself and people around him. He could  _ change.  _ He just had to try, really try. He could tackle each broken piece of himself and try to make something  _ good  _ instead of being someone shameful and sad. 

By the time he and Ola were exhausted, he was sweaty. They collapsed some distance away from the shattered remains of their unleashed fury. 

Laying there in the grass, Ola panting next to him, Adam said, “I’m bisexual.” 

When Ola patted his arm, he didn’t flinch away. “Good for you, man.” 

~~~

Fighting through all of the things he’d internalized for so long wasn’t as easy or as quick as Adam wanted it to be. Now that he had a new perspective, every decision felt weighted, even simple ones. But with every choice that felt right, he grew more confident. He started with his mom. It was easy to forgive her and move forward from her lack of action in the past, especially without the shackles of his dad’s presence looming over them both. He tried to be thoughtful, though he wasn’t good at it yet. When he brought home a couple of mangoes from the shop after his shift, his mother’s smile was brighter than the sun. He tried to be more physically affectionate with her too, but that was harder. Hugging her felt strange and unnatural, especially because she was so short. Kissing her on the cheek felt better, and the smile she always gave him when he did made it worthwhile. 

He also tried to do better at the shop. He’d already been doing pretty well, but each shift he tried to put in a little more effort. He watched Ola as she helped customers, and tried to adopt her attitude. That was challenging, and it was awkward. When his old classmates came in, they always gave him looks like he’d grown a second head. That still hurt him, but instead of trying to shove it away he tried to deal with the hurt instead. 

He struggled with being nice to Rahim. They saw each other regularly, since Rahim lived with his uncle above the shop. Any smile on his face died when they saw each other, though he was grateful that Eric had never come back with him. It hurt to see Rahim, to know that he was already in a place that deserved Eric and Adam had never been in that place. Even now, working so hard, he didn’t think he was there. 

He missed Eric every day.

When Otis came in one afternoon, Adam was surprised to see him. He hadn’t seen him since before he’d left for the military school - which felt like ancient history now, even though it had only been a few months. He hadn’t changed. His skin was still pale, his eyes huge and blue in his face. 

When he caught sight of Adam, his face shifted. He hesitated, like maybe he was considering turning around and walking right out the door, but after a second he continued his trajectory towards the cooler where they kept cans of soda. 

“How are you, new kid?” Adam asked as he walked over to the register. Not an excellent start, but he’d asked a polite question and didn’t sound hostile. 

Otis gave him a strange look, almost amused as he replied, “Since when do you ask questions?” 

“I’m trying to work on my small talk,” Adam said. In his head, he thought,  _ And so many other things.  _

Otis squinted at him, distrustful like this was some kind of a trap. Deliberately, he stacked the two cans of soda in his hands on top of each other on the counter before sliding them closer so Adam could scan them. 

_ Rude,  _ Adam thought, staring down at the subtle jab. It was kind of funny, he knew, but still. He picked up a can, mouth tightening as he fought his own longing on what to say next. “How is he?” he finally asked as he scanned the first can. 

Otis studied him, confusion on his face. 

“Eric,” Adam clarified, glancing at him quickly. 

Otis’ lips tightened. “He’s confused,” he confessed. 

Adam looked up, air caught in his throat. 

“I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you,” Otis continued, “but if you hurt him I’ll…” 

Adam raised an eyebrow as Otis paused. 

He sounded breathless, his voice gone a little high as he finished, “I’ll mess you up.” He didn’t look up at Adam, keeping his eyes glued somewhere behind Adam’s hip. 

The breath stuck in Adam’s chest released slowly. It was a relief and an agony to know that Eric hadn’t told his best friend about their last interaction. It hurt to hear that he was confused. Why was he confused? 

Adam let the silence hang between them for a long moment as he struggled with what to say.  _ Does he miss me?  _ he wanted to ask, even though it was an unfair question. Otis reached for the cans and slid over the money for them. He was halfway to the door when Adam finally admitted, “I don’t want to hurt him anymore.” 

Otis stopped and turned back to him. “Then don’t,” he replied, like it was so simple. 

How was Adam supposed to take that? What was he supposed to do with that? Was he hurting Eric by staying away from him? He knew he’d been hurting Eric for years now, first with the bullying and then with his inability to open up. He figured he’d hurt Eric with the secrecy, too. What he’d thought was romantic, throwing rocks at his window in the middle of the night, walking with him and laughing with him in the junkyard, was actually just him being ashamed of his own sexuality. Ashamed of Eric and the tentative relationship that had bloomed between them. 

How was he supposed to make a decision knowing that he was hurting Eric by staying away, but had hurt him by being close? 

~~~ 

Adam should have known he’d fuck something up. Despite all his effort, he’d still managed to ruin something good. He couldn’t do something as simple as lock a fucking door. It was disgusting. 

He’d walked into the shop that morning to a disaster, Yusef kneeling on the ground as he picked up broken chunks of fruit and large pieces of shattered glass. Adam had known immediately that it had been his fault, indisputably. He couldn’t bear to face Yusef’s anger, his  _ disappointment.  _ Yusef had trusted him, and Adam had let him down. He turned and left. 

All of the progress he’d thought he’d made seemed to crumple around him as he shuffled back to his house, head down and hood up. He was so worthless and stupid, why did he even bother trying? He’d only ever mess things up. He was a ticking time bomb. He destroyed everything he touched. 

When he walked into the house, his mother was waiting for him. She looked sad. “Yusef called,” she told him. 

“Yeah,” he replied, voice hoarse. 

“Oh, darling,” she said with a sigh, gently touching his face. “Things happen, sometimes, no matter how hard we try.” 

~~~

He didn’t feel much better the next morning. He had been on the schedule to work, and suddenly faced with a completely empty day he didn’t know what to do with himself. He headed downstairs, where his mom stopped him. 

“I’ve packed some clean clothes and a couple of dinners for your father,” she said with a smile. 

Adam knew where this was going, and dread was already pooling in his stomach. He hadn’t seen his father in weeks. It was a weekday, so school was in session. What if he saw Eric, too? 

“Would you drop them over at school?” she asked. “Please? For me?” 

He could say no. He could take the iPod and go to the junkyard to start a new book. He could avoid seeing his dad for a while longer. He didn’t want to see him, especially after his failure at work. His dad would just rub it in, make him feel worse about it. 

“Did you tell him about me getting fired?” he asked. 

She shook her head, eyes sympathetic. “No. But someone probably will. Might be best to mention it.” 

Adam swallowed hard as she slid the bag towards him. The last thing he wanted to do was admit to his dad that he’d fucked up. Still, he took the bag. 

“You’ll find something you’re really good at soon,” his mom promised. 

It didn’t feel like it. He felt like he was in this endless cycle of trying and then ruining whatever he’d tried at. He’d tried to be ok at military school, and then fucked that up by taking the fall for guys who didn’t care about him. He’d tried to be good for Eric, and then fucked that up with all of his internalised shame and fear. He’d tried to be good at his job, he’d even done well for a time, but he’d still managed to fuck that up. 

He didn’t reply. 

~~~

When he got to school, he went straight to his dad’s office. He didn’t look at any of the students swarming around him as they headed towards their classes. He couldn’t help but notice those who gave him long looks, or those who glanced at him then turned to their friends to make a comment and laugh. It was like being kicked while he was still down. He found his dad sitting by the windows, head propped on his hands as he stared blankly into the distance. He knocked, then opened the door, taking a few hesitant steps inside before dropping the bag on the floor. 

Forgiving his mom had been easy, but finding forgiveness for his dad felt impossible. Knowing that his dad would berate him for losing his job, and knowing that his dad found him an overall disappointment felt like weights tied to his wrists that he couldn’t take off. 

“Mum said to call if you want anything else,” he said. He paused, but really didn’t feel like lingering in the presence of a person who still made him feel ashamed, even without speaking. “All right, bye.”

“How is your mother?” 

Adam paused, surprised. There was emotion in his father’s voice, sadness. It was a sadness that Adam recognized. 

“Do you think she misses me?”

_ How is he?  _ Adam had asked Otis in the shop that day.  _ Does he miss me?  _ Adam had wanted to ask. He despised the fact that his own thoughts and feelings towards Eric were being echoed in the words of his father. 

Adam took a deep breath. “I don’t know, dad,” he said. His eyes flitted from his father’s face to the window. “I think Madam misses you though.” 

His dad let out a humorless chuckle. 

Why was it this moment that Adam saw himself so clearly reflected in his father’s eyes? It would have been easier if his father would just say something cruel. Then Adam wouldn’t feel so bad for him, sitting here in his office, sad and alone. Was this what Adam’s future would look like? Would he one day fall in love with someone he didn’t deserve, marry them, spend a lifetime with them, only to ruin it with the burden of his own shame? Destroy it under the weight of his own inability? Even though he’d decided to change, to be better, would he ever truly be able to unlearn the distance and disappointment his father had shown him? Or would Adam be just like him? 

That thought terrified him. 

“I was thinking I could come back to school,” Adam tried. It was another thing he hadn’t really explored, only a whisper of a thought after what his mom had said. “I know I’ve missed out on a lot, but I want to find something I’m good at. I don’t want to work in that shop forever.” It was a partial truth, since he didn’t actually work at the shop anymore, but it felt like safe territory. 

His dad let out a deep sigh. A smile almost curled his lips before it dipped back down. “Well, you haven’t been fired yet,” he said, which felt like a low blow even though it wasn’t intended to be a blow at all. “Wonders never cease.” 

And there was the cruelty Adam had wished for just a moment ago. Of course. 

“Let’s see, shall we?” Something caught his father’s eye outside the window. “Adam, you can go now.” He leapt to his feet like he was on fire, scrambling towards his desk. “Adam! Get out!” 

Some things never changed. It didn’t hurt any less. 

~~~

Of course Adam saw Eric in the hallway on his way out. It felt like a nice little sum up to the rest of his shitty day. But Adam couldn’t stop the flutter in his chest, the warmth that flooded his veins at the sight of him. They stopped in front of each other. 

“Hi, Adam,” Eric greeted him, almost shyly. “How are you?” 

Adam let out a puff of air. He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, “My mum’s divorcing my dad, so he’s sleeping at school.” It didn’t really answer Eric’s question, but Adam didn’t feel like it was wholly appropriate to say,  _ I feel shitty and wrong, like all I’ll ever do is fuck things up. I miss you every day, and I’m so scared I’m going to end up just like him.  _

Eric chuckled, sympathetic. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “Everyone kinda knows.” 

“I got fired from my job,” Adam admitted next, which felt a hair closer to the truth of how he really felt. 

“Yeah,” Eric nodded, another laugh escaping his lips. The laugh wasn’t cruel, though. “Rahim told me.” 

Stupid Rahim. 

“Sorry, man.” 

This would be a good time to leave, save himself the embarrassment. Eric was clearly all caught up on all the shit going on in Adam’s life. Adam dropped his eyes. They landed on the instrument in Eric’s hands. “Still play the French horn?” he asked. Damn his tongue. 

Eric grinned at him. “I didn’t think you knew what it was!” he hefted the instrument in front of him. The genuine smile melted the sour feelings in Adam’s gut. It was refreshing in a way he hadn’t expected. 

“Trombone sounded funny.” he wanted to drink in the smile on Eric’s face, memorize the sound of his laugh. 

“Eric, we’re starting!” someone called. 

“It’s the final rehearsal for the musical tonight,” Eric explained when Adam looked at him curiously. “You should come!” 

It was probably just Eric being polite, but it still made Adam’s stomach swoop. Eric wanted him there?

“I mean,” he continued, “I’m sure musicals aren’t your thing, but-”

Funnily enough, Adam had just started listening to  _ Wicked _ the night before. His mom had insisted it was very good. “Is it like  _ Frozen _ ?” Adam asked instead. Damnit. 

The quirk of Eric’s eyebrow, the curiosity in his gaze… He was so cute. God, he was so cute. “Because that was very sad,” Adam continued, trying not to be tongue tied. Frozen was very sad, he’d thought when he’d watched it with his mum. 

“Yeah, uh.” Eric laughed. “It’s a bit like  _ Frozen. _ ” He turned and pulled a slip of paper off of the wall behind him. He handed it to Adam. 

He stared at it for a long moment, eyebrows twisting together. “Kind of looks like they’re snogging in a forest full of dicks.” 

“That’s exactly what I said!” Eric’s laugh was loud, joyous. 

Adam couldn’t help the smile that spread up his own lips. It felt so good to make Eric laugh. It was like a balm being spread across all the wounds in his chest, soothing them. He felt better than he had when he’d left the house, less like he was being dragged down by his own failure. He felt like he could be forgiven, like he was worth forgiveness. 

“It’s a forest full of dicks, man!” Eric jabbed the paper in Adam’s hands. “It’s full of dicks.” 

“It’s just mad,” Adam agreed, shaking his head. He couldn’t believe his father had approved this. Eric’s peels of laughter began to slow, so Adam decided it was time for him to go. He didn’t want to, but Eric had practice. “I better go,” he said. He could feel his mood sobering as he looked back at Eric. 

Eric’s smile was fading, his eyes growing more somber. “Yeah, um,” he hesitated when their eyes met. “I didn’t mean what I said. At the party. About people not liking you.”

Adam shook his head. “I’m very easy to not like.” That had been a hard truth he’d faced in the past few days. He took a deep breath. “I uh-” his breath caught for half a second, but he was determined to keep going. He couldn’t change the things he’d done. He couldn’t go back and fix them or make them right. He couldn’t immediately ban the shame and anger that had controlled his decisions, but he could make an effort to do better, even if he sometimes failed. “I understand that I hurt you.” 

Their eyes stayed locked together. Adam tried to project the sincerity he felt. It wasn’t a direct apology, he knew that, but it was an acknowledgement of their shared history. 

“Okay,” Eric said. His brows were creased slightly, his lips turned down. 

Adam let out a slow breath. “I just wanted you to know that.” 

~~~

Adam’s encounter with Eric inspired bravery inside of him. If he could face his dad and feel sympathy instead of rage, if he could face Eric and feel soothed instead of hurt, he could face Yusef and try for forgiveness. He entered the shop, hoping he could at least express how sorry he was. Rahim was there. Adam tried to ignore the bitterness he felt towards him and asked, “Is your uncle here?”

Rahim turned over his shoulder, calling, “Yusef!” before he turned back to Adam. 

They stood together in awkward silence. 

“I know you like my boyfriend,” Rahim finally said. 

Nothing Adam could say to deny that. Even a lie would obviously be a lie on his lips. 

“You make him laugh.”

Adam was seeing reflections of himself in all kinds of places today. The bitterness in Rahim’s tone was exactly how he felt, bitter and sad because Rahim obviously had something that Adam didn’t. 

“He doesn’t laugh like that with me.”

They both looked at each other strangely for a second before Rahim heard Yusef approach. He gave Adam one more look before ducking past him, calling, “See you later, Yusef,” over his shoulder. 

“She’s still sitting,” Yusef told him as he came out of the stock room. “You taught her well.” 

“If you give me my job back, I can teach her other things,” Adam said. “How to give a high-five, or do a sexy wink.” Damnit! He needed to stronger filter on the side of his brain that seemed to insist on saying dumb things. 

Yusef glanced at him, clearly unimpressed as he moved to stock a shelf.

“Please,” Adam continued. “I know I made a mistake. It won’t happen again.” 

Yusef didn’t respond, and in the next second Ola came in. “Hello,” she greeted, offering Adam a smile. 

“Hi,” Yusef said, giving her outfit a once over. “Why are you dressed like a very small man?” 

“I’m going to my school musical,” Ola told him. She tugged on the lapels of her suit jacket and leaned on the front counter. “Can I have my pay?” 

Yusef nodded and went to go collect it for her. 

“What are you doing here?” Ola asked, turning her eyes on Adam. 

She knew, of course. “Trying to get my job back,” Adam admitted. “I want to go back to school, but my dad can’t find out I was fired.” 

Yusef returned then, passing Ola her check. “What happened to the shop wasn’t Adam’s fault,” she said, surprising Adam. “The key wasn’t working last time I used it. I forgot to tell you. It was my fault.” 

Yusef, who had already gone back to stocking, turned towards them, an eyebrow raised. 

“If you’re gonna fire him, you’re gonna have to fire me too.” 

“This is true?” Yusef demanded. 

“Yeah,” they both said. Ola said it with confidence, but Adam hesitantly. Why was she doing this? 

“Well,” Yusef said. He glared at them. “Then you’re both fired. Go on, get out of my shop. Go!” 

Ola paused for a moment, then sighed. She stuffed her pay in her pocket and turned to leave. Adam followed her, confused. 

“Why did you do that?” he demanded as soon as they were out the door. 

“Because I love you, dude,” she delivered her reply instantly and without hesitation. 

“Well, I know that I’m bisexual, but I don’t like you like that,” he said, still very confused. Hadn’t she just told him the other days she was having sex dreams about girls? It would be weird if she suddenly started having sex dreams about him. 

She met his eyes, a strange look on her face. 

“I thought you were a lesbian now, or into kitchen stuff,” he continued. Fuck, he needed that filter now. “Or some shit?” he finished. 

She laughed at him. Her voice was teasing. “No, Adam, you idiot. You’re my friend! I love you like a friend.” 

Adam froze midstep, brought up short by her confession. She loved him like a friend? 

“Are you ok?” she asked. 

“No one’s ever said I was their friend before,” he murmured, still trying to process. Impulsively, he turned to her and scooped her into a huge hug. Maybe to her it was an easy admission. She probably told her friends she loved them all the time. To Adam, it was the world. It meant he was lovable, that he was worth something. It meant that, even in the midst of his mistakes, he could be forgiven. 

~~~

He ended up wandering around for a while, headphones stuffed in his ears. He debated going to the musical, even passing the school building a couple of times before he figured it would be better if he went home. He still felt guilty and disappointed about losing his job, and he would still have to face his dad eventually, but he was buoyed by his interactions with Eric and Ola. 

When he walked in, his mum was standing in the living room. It was strange seeing her in something so dressy. “You look nice, mum,” he told her honestly. 

“Something new I’m trying,” she said with a smile. She walked further into the living room to straighten up. “Is everything alright at school? How was your father?” 

When she asked, it felt different than when his dad asked.

“Not good,” Adam told her, watching her face. He hesitated, then said, “Maybe we could let him come back?” 

He felt better, but he was still haunted by how clearly he had seen himself in that moment. How scared he’d been of leading a life that ended exactly where his dad was now. Maybe if his mum let his dad come home, he could believe that even if he ended up like that there was still hope for a happy ending. 

“Oh, darling,” his mum said, her smile slipping as she looked at him sadly. She shook her head minutely. “Your father needed to fight for us a very long time ago.” 

“What do you mean?” 

She sighed deeply, but smiled at him fondly. “When you love a person,” she explained, “there’s always a tiny part of you that’s terrified that one day you’re going to lose them. And I think that your father is so scared of that emotion that he stops himself from feeling anything at all.” 

Was that was Adam was doing? He was feeling, sure, and trying to explore those feelings, but he kept hiding them in the face of the people who mattered. If he kept hiding them, only showing the bits he felt were presentable, was he still directing himself down the path his father had gone? 

“But,” she continued, “you have to let the people you love know that you love them.” 

_ Because I love you, dude.  _ Ola had admitted it to him so easily, expressed friendly love to him like it cost her nothing. It had made him feel so good to hear that, to be accepted just as he was, where he was.. 

“Even if it causes you a great deal of pain.” 

“Why?” he asked, thoughts turning to Eric. “It sounds awful.” 

Her eyes glowed, her smile widened. “Because you’re alive.” 

Because he’s alive. Because Eric is alive. Because both of them are alive, and on earth together, and even if Eric decides that he doesn’t want to be with Adam, Adam needs to express that he’s willing to change. He needs to express that he  _ does  _ love Eric, and that he’s willing to work through the shame that shackled him in the past, willing to move on from the terror and fear he had felt instead of hiding from it. 

“I have to go,” Adam whispered, then turned to run. 

He had to tell Eric. He had to reach for his hand. He understood now. There was so much he had left to figure out, and so many insecurities and habits he had to work on, but he understood. 

So he ran. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I worked really hard to try to capture what I felt like was Adam's thought process through season 2... I feel like it's a bit choppy and maybe could have used more added scenes to really explore his development, but I'm still satisfied with what I ended up with. Let me know what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! There will be two chapters instead of the single chapter I'd had planned because I can't control myself and ended up writing almost 20k words. 
> 
> Please leave your kudos and comments! They give me life. 
> 
> The next chapter is already written, I just have to edit, so please be on the look out for it next week :) 
> 
> If you feel so inclined, you can find me on [Tumblr!](https://groffiong.tumblr.com/) Please scream with me about s2.


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